


dyin' young won't change your mind

by wastingyourarrows



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Politics, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Harvard University, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:48:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27097600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wastingyourarrows/pseuds/wastingyourarrows
Summary: Theon Greyjoy meets Robb Stark the first day of their freshman year at Harvard University. Robb introduces Theon to the world of Massachusetts royalty, and it's too late to turn back by the time Theon realizes he's fallen in love with the crown prince.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Theon Greyjoy/Robb Stark, Theon Greyjoy/Ros
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

It was move-in day at Harvard, Theon was eighteen. It was warm outside, but the warmth came from the sun, not the air. A breeze floated through the second floor window of Theon’s dorm room and blew a piece of hair into his face. He tossed his head to move it, to no avail, and it rested on his sweaty forehead until his last box of personal effects were on the ground next to his bed, and his hands were free once again. The room was a little smaller than the average kitchen, by Theon’s reckoning, far from the tuna can, his brother Rodrick complained about during every vacation. With two beds, desks, and wardrobes, plus Theon’s boxes littering the floor, it seemed cramped, sure, but he had room to spin around in a circle (he did, twice), and it was bright, clean, and most importantly, away from home. He felt happy surveying his new dominion, and as an inkling of worry as to why he felt so happy crept up on him, he began ripping open the boxes he’d neglected to label while packing.  
All Theon’s t-shirts lay rolled up in a drawer under his bed, ordered by colour, and he was at work sorting his jeans into the other drawer, when there was a knock at the door. He frowned, then remembered. Roommate. “Come in!” he yelled, and a white high-top sneaker wedged itself between the door and the wall, followed by a pair of legs and a stack of three boxes. “Let me help you, man.” Theon rushed over and lifted the top box off the intruder’s pile.  
“Careful with that!” The box yanked Theon’s arms down, and he yelped as it fell open on top of his own sock clad foot.  
“Fuck!” Hardcover books spilled out of the torn box, and blinding pain shot through his leg. He grabbed it instinctively, leaning down and pushing books away.  
“Oh my God,” the new voice exclaimed, and the other two boxes were set down, more carefully, onto the floor. “Are you okay?”  
“I’m fine,” he spat out, bitterly like he would in response to his brothers or father. The speaker’s tone was unlike anything he’d ever heard from his brothers, though.  
“I’m so sorry, can I get you ice? Anything?” His voice was genuinely concerned, and Theon felt another wave of pain, this one of guilt at having snapped.  
“No really,” he said, his tone softer. “I’m fine. It’s my fault anyway.”  
“It’s not, I should have- anyway. If you’re okay I’ll clean up these-” he knelt down and began piling books back into the box.  
“If I wrecked any of those, I’ll replace them-” Theon offered, a new fear in his mind.  
“No.” The new guy looked up. “Don’t worry! Focus on your foot!” He filled the box quickly and lifted it (quite easily, Theon noted) onto the bed not piled with Theon’s own boxes. He held out a hand. “It seems we got off on the wrong-” he glanced down, reddening. “I wish our first meeting had been different?”  
Theon couldn’t help smiling. “So do I.” He accepted the proffered hand.  
“I’m Robb Stark, and you’re my roommate, so you must be Theon Greyjoy?” His handshake was firm, like Theon’s father’s Navy friends who came around on Sundays.  
“I am. Nice to meet you, Robb.” Theon took this opportunity to give his new roommate a onceover. He was Theon’s age, obviously, but taller and broader, with the arms and shoulders of a football player hugged by a white baseball shirt.  
“I do unfortunately have other boxes, and my mother probably thinks I’ve been murdered by now, so I’m going to go back to my car to finish moving in. Feel free to drop the full works of Ken Follett on your foot when I come back, but I’m not liable.” Robb punctuated his statement with a good natured grin and left the room.  
“For sure.” Theon stood in their empty room again. The same happiness enveloped him, and the encroaching worry didn’t settle in again until his jeans, dress shirts, and workout gear were organized, a state he was sure they would never achieve again after the first week of the semester. My mother probably thinks I’ve been murdered by now. Theon pictured Robb’s mother, with his same red hair but framing the face of a woman elegantly approaching middle age, anxiously waiting in the car for her darling son to come reassure her that his roommate wasn’t at first glance an insomniac pervert. Theon’s own mother had woken up at five that morning to tearfully wish him goodbye before his cab took him to JAX, but he flew out alone, and his belongings were mailed.  
The door was knocked on again, and Theon went to open it himself. Robb was back, carrying only two boxes this time. “You wouldn’t guess it, but my dad was the nervous one, asking all these questions about you and the room and the building and whatever, my mom was the one who convinced him to go home.”  
As they both unpacked, Robb kept a conversation going, asking questions that definitionally meant they’d just met while giving Theon a baffling fe eling of familiarity. Where was he from? What was his family like? What was his major? Why was he taking business? In between, he coloured in the details of his own background. He grew up in a suburb of Boston a thirty minute drive, hour long bus ride away. He was the oldest of five kids, with two younger sisters and two younger brothers. He was doing a history degree, hoping to go on to law school.  
After flattening all of their now empty boxes and stacking them by the door, Theon once more surveyed the room. Robb’s bookshelf burst with biographies of presidents, histories of the Catholic church, a Bible, and The Pats, an Illustrated History. A high school and Harvard pennant hung above his bed, a rosary hung off his bedpost, and a family picture like something out of a magazine sat on his desk, five red haired, blue eyed children hanging off their laughing parents on the lawn of a beach house somewhere. Theon’s bookshelf played home to his pile of textbooks and an unopened book about ocean warfare his father had gifted him. A Rebel Without a Cause poster hung above his bed, next to tacked up schedules for his classes and crew team practices.  
They headed down for supper together, and as they passed a cluster of girls at the bottom of the stairs, Theon heard them erupt into whispers. He flashed an easy smile, and was happily bemused when the same thing happened on entering the dining hall. “I’m starving,” Robb said. He led the way to the dinner line, and immediately introduced himself to the last girl in line.  
“I’m Robb Stark, where are you from?”  
The girl smirked. “I know who you are.” She shook his hand. “I’m Bella Waters, from Atlanta.” Her ruby lips twisted in a sure southern drawl.  
Robb was on the football team, that was it. That gets announced, when, early at least. Girls would recognize him from that. “This is Theon Greyjoy,” Robb introduced him.  
“Hey,” Theon said. “Jacksonville, we’re neighbours. What’s your major?” He smiled at her, and she replied disinterestedly.  
“Business.”  
The line moved and Robb and Theon made their way to a table carrying plates piled with hamburgers and potato salad. Bella waved girlishly at Robb and headed to a table full of girls.  
“I’m going to be honest Rob, that’s the first time a girl has ignored me for someone else,” Theon said. Robb laughed.  
“I don’t believe you.”  
“To be fair though, I never spent much time with football players at Farragut.”  
“Farragut?”  
“Florida’s finest military academy.” Theon grinned.  
“What was that like?”  
“Eh, not much of a nightlife.”  
“I bet.”  
While Theon ate, Robb waved over a handful of students, two girls, four guys. He seemed to know some of them, if not well. Theon hastily set down his food.  
“Theon is my roommate, he’s from Florida,” Robb kicked off the conversation.  
“For my sins,” Theon offered with an apologetic smile. The girls laughed.  
“This is Wylla, her dad works with mine, and Dacey and I grew up together,” Robb introduced them.  
“What’s your-” Theon started.  
“Gender studies. Cliche, I know,” Wylla cut him off, tucking a strand of green hair behind her ear. Evidently, not a lot of girls at Farragut did the ‘alt’ thing, and Theon liked it.  
“Mechanical engineering,” Dacey said. She was long and lanky, taller than Robb by a few inches.  
Robb deliberately included Theon at every opportunity, asking him about his old school and his major and his summer. Theon felt distinctly on the outside: he was the only one not from New England, and knew nobody in this seemingly interconnected group, but his outsider status came with no discomfort. Robb’s friends or acquaintances were genuinely interested in him, or very good at pretending.  
“Greyjoy, do you have a brother?” Torrhen, a massive guy who had to be one of Robb’s teammates asked.  
“Two actually,” Theon smiled, hiding his annoyance.  
“One of them’s at West Point, right? A senior?”  
“Yeah, Maron.” It was a miracle he’d made it through three years of college given his incredible academic laziness, but Theon didn’t doubt being the son of Admiral Balon Greyjoy helped.  
“My brother Edd knows him, he’s a legend at parties, dude, you must be the same?”  
“You know it,” Theon forced out.  
“Come with Robb to the party tonight, at Mather.”  
“Mather?”  
“I’m a junior, so’s Cley.” He pointed at the less burly but still intimidating boy to his left. “Robb!” Rob turned away from his conversation with Dacey. “Coming to Mather tonight?”  
“Absolutely, Karstark.” Rob grinned.


	2. Chapter 2

At nine P.M. Theon’s hands were resting on the hips of a girl from California whose name he didn’t know. The room was full and smelled like beer and sweat, but it was far from the dirty clubs ruled by testosterone fueled aggression he rode into on a fake ID the nights he snuck out from Farragut. As they danced, the girl leaned close to him.  
“You’re friends with Robb Stark, right?”   
“‘Course, we’re roommates,” Theon replied.  
“Cool,” she cooed. They parted after a few more songs, and Theon struck up a conversation with some business upperclassmen. The most coherent of the group introduced himself as Pat.   
“Greyjoy, Greyjoy, that sounds familiar. Energy? Construction?”  
“Sort of, my uncle runs my grandpa’s boat building company.”  
“Right! Right.” Pat snapped his fingers. “What’s your dad do?”  
“Navy, he’s an admiral,” Theon said.   
“Good man! I’ll be seeing you in this the Porceline, I bet.”  
“Here’s hoping.” Theon smiled. “Are you in it?”   
“Likewise. I’m a sophomore, so, I’ll know in a few months.” Pat grinned.  
Pat soon sidled up to a freshman girl and ushered her to the dance floor, and Theon approached another girl, who was happy to ask him all about Florida for a half hour.   
He saw Robb a few hours later, the sleeves of his button down rolled up his forearms and his top three buttons undone. His face was flushed with sweat, but he was sober compared to the average partygoer. Theon smiled at him with a nod at the girl he was dancing with, who looked like a goddamn cheerleader. The Californian girl who asked about him earlier sidled up to Theon. Her red ponytail had come undone, and her tank top had ridden up her hips ever so slightly.  
“Are you going to invite me up to your room?” she asked, her voice teasing and petulant.  
“I thought I’d lost your interest,” Theon teased back.  
“That was yesterday, today’s a new day.” Theon looked down at his watch. It was one in the morning.   
“That it is.” He held out an arm. “My lady.” She smirked at him and took it.   
“Ros.”  
“What?”  
“I know you don’t know my name, it’s Ros.”  
“How dare you imply I would invite a girl up to my room whose name I didn’t even know.” She rolled her eyes. When they stepped out of Mather house the night air immediately cooled Theon’s too-hot skin. The campus was still lively, groups of students lying about the grass, only a little rowdier than they’d been at noon. The path back to Theon’s room was brightly lit, the stars and moon nearly blotted out.   
“You’re a sophomore?” Theon guessed. Ros nodded.   
“How many other innocent young freshmen have you beguiled?”  
“Bold of you to claim innocence.”   
“You know nothing about me!”  
“Not true. I know you’re a good dancer, you’re not afraid to touch girls, you like redheads, you’re a business major. You learned all those somewhere, and you’re from Florida. How dare you claim to be an innocent.”  
“Point ceded.” They reached Theon’s residence, and Theon nodded at the bored senior at the desk as he followed Ros’s swaying walk up the stairs.   
“I’ll also say-” Ros turned her head to look at Theon as she walked down the hall to his room.   
“216.”  
“Right. I’ll also say it’s an extraordinary alpha scumbag move to take a girl back to your dorm the first night, when you have a roommate.”  
“It’s fine, he’ll be at Mather all night.” 

Theon woke with a start, and nearly fell off his bed. The twin was not made for two people, and Ros was still lying next to him, sleeping deeply. Through the dark, he made out his bedroom door closing behind an intruder. He sat up hurriedly, suddenly sweating, and remembered: he’s at college, he has a roommate, it’s just Rob. He threw a blanket over Ros’s torso.   
“Sorry,” Rob stage whispered, carefully walking to his bed and peeling off his shirt before collapsing. “Didn’t see anything.” Theon gave him a thumbs up.   
“How was your night?”  
“Not too bad.” Theon heard the smile in Rob’s voice. “Yours?”  
“Very good.” Theon felt Ros move next to him. “Fuck.”  
“What time is it?” she asked, half asleep still.  
“Too early,” Theon said. “Rob’s here, he didn’t see anything.”   
“Oh. Morning mister governor,” her morning vocal fry intensified as she raised her voice.   
“Sorry to intrude,” Rob said back.  
“Not a problem, sir.” Ros pushed herself up on one elbow and looked over at the other bed, one hand holding the blanket up to her chest. Theon frowned.   
“Leave him alone,” he said.   
“Aw,” she cooed. “Standing up for your boyfriend.” Robb laughed.  
“What are you talking about?”   
“She’s joking, Theon. Go to bed,” Rob said.

When he woke up for real it was eight o’ clock, hours after his usual wake up time. His head was pounding, and Ros was gone. After both of them were coherent, Theon asked Rob what he’d been thinking about the past eighteen hours.   
“Why does everyone know you, man?”  
Rob paused, pants on one leg and his button down unbuttoned. “I don’t think everyone knows me.”  
“The girl in the lunch line yesterday, the girl you met last night, guys at the party, they all know you. Is it just football or like, Boston high society?”  
“People know your family too, but uh-” Rob buckled his belt. “My dad’s the governor of Massachusetts.”   
“Really?” Rob nodded sheepishly.  
“I don’t like to lean on it but like, it can’t be helped I guess.”   
“So you’re like, continuing the dynasty.”   
“Sure. We’re not like a- politics family though. My dad was the first one in the family, my grandfather owns a liquor business.”   
“Right. So you’re like Massachusetts royalty.”  
“Not really.” Theon looked at Rob, grinning. His boyish face was red under his bedhead.   
“It’s cool man. Better than being the son of a warmonger.”   
“Well, you can’t choose your family.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know what you think! have a great weekend folks :)


	3. Chapter 3

Clubs day arrived and Theon found himself walking around the campus festivities with Robb, who was already fully decked out in his Crimsons jacket that clashed magnificently with his red hair. He insisted on stopping at every other booth, chatting with the guy manning the Harvard Young Democrats table (Rob was already a member), a pair of girls at the Harvard Catholic Students Association booth (likewise), the editor of the Harvard Crimson (whose card Theon took), Torrhen Karstark, who was signing people up for intramural soccer (they both signed up), and a guy at the Harvard Christian Fellowship table (Theon steered them away after assuring the kid that he wasn’t related to the televangelist Aaron Greyjoy). They took a break around twelve for tacos, and sat on the grass, again surrounded by people Rob knew from school or football or church or debate club or because their Cape Cod beach houses neighboured one another. Theon spotted Pat from Mather at a booth for some boating club and broke away from Rob’s coterie to talk crew after realising he was also on the lightweight team. Soon the conversation drifted to connections. Pat liked to talk.  
“You’re tight with Stark’s kid, aren’t you?”   
“Yeah,” Theon said. “He’s great.”  
“Insane family. I’ve never seen someone people like that much. I’ve been friends with his mom’s little brother since we were kids, my dad worked for his grandfather in the Georgia state legislature forever. His name’s Ed, Rob’s uncle I guess, but he’s only a few years older than him. Anyway Ed’s fantastic, he went to Duke three years ago, plays ball, girls love him, the whole thing, you know? I first met Rob at his grandfather’s retirement party a few years back, and I was like woah he’s like Ed dialed up a thousand. Beats you at football and makes you feel like you’re the one who won, he’s so goddamn charming. Girls love Ed, hell, girls like me, but their fathers like Rob. ‘Here’s the keys, have her back whenever,’ sort of thing, I swear. Everybody’s totally obsessed with him, it’s ridiculous.  
I don’t know his Dad’s family very well, just read about them a bit. I try to keep up with the news, good for networking and all that. They’re actually badass, his great-grandad was a bootlegger during prohibition, and that’s why they’re so filthy rich. His grandfather took it over when the great-grandad retired, his name was Rickard. The governor and his siblings were kids at the time. Now it’s all legal of course, they became a liquor company, whisky and stuff.   
Rickard ran the company for a decade or something and then retired pretty young to run for congress as a Dem. He was popular in the state, and the governor’s brother Brandon was just out of college, ready to take over the company. His campaign was really successful as far as I can tell, we actually studied it in the local poli-sci class I took.”   
“Is he in congress, then?” Theon asked.  
“Well, it’s crazy. Brandon, remember he’s twenty-one, twenty-two at the time, running this liquor company, drove his car into a semi in the middle of the night, killed himself and a truck driver. Blood alcohol through the roof.”  
“Jesus Christ. So that was-”  
“Rob’s uncle. This would have been before Rob was born.”  
“Right.”  
“So, huge scandal, Rickard drops out of the race a few weeks before the election and the Republican, Targ- something, kicks the replacement’s ass.”  
“What about the company?”  
“Eddard was legally an adult on the board or something, he managed to keep it in the family and Rickard came back. He sold it pretty quick and invested in forestry, shipping, loads of safe options. It’s so impressive that they didn’t lose everything. I think business left a bad taste in Eddard’s mouth though, and he got into politics after he got his degree.”   
“Wow.”   
“Rickard died too.”  
“What?”  
“Yeah.” Pat was clearly reveling in the story. “Gunshot wound in the front seat of his car, maybe self-inflicted, maybe not. Edwyle, the bootlegger, Rickard, Brandon, they all had mob ties. Irishmen, you know.”   
“That’s insane.”  
“I know. Apparently it’s practically folklore here. Brandon’s an icon, people love Eddard, and Rickard’s a fucking martyr.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhh thanks for reading! sorry im shitty at updating, school and work and such. have the best week :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh someone uses the word 'queer' in this chapter so click away if you don't want to read that

Theon was walking home from Alternative Investments when his phone rang. It was almost supper, and he was going to drop off his stuff at his dorm before heading to the dining hall. “Hello?” he answered.  
“Theon?” It was a woman’s voice, a woman with the vocal fry of a drill sergeant. Wait.  
“Asha?”  
“How’s school?”  
“What?”  
“How’s school?”  
“Fuck off, why do you care?”  
“God you’re annoying. Are you coming home for Christmas?”  
“What?”  
“Stop saying ‘what’. Are you coming home for Christmas?”  
“Um-” Theon stopped walking and pushed his hair back. “I hadn’t thought about it. Is Dad finalizing his will?”  
“Don’t you want to see Mom?”  
“Are Rodrik and Maron coming home?”  
“Rodrik is, Maron’s probably gonna have like, waterboarding class or something.” Theon snorted.  
“I’m staying here. Tell Mom I’m really busy.”  
“What should I tell Dad?”  
“I’ve moved in with a socialist papist from New York and spend my weekends throwing molotovs at cop cars and pole dancing.” Asha didn’t reply. “Just tell him school’s good and I’m doing well and have lots of friends on my ‘queer’ crew team, he’ll hate that.”  
“Alright.” There was a pause. Theon moved to hang up. “Theon,”  
“Yeah?” he said.  
“I love you,” she said. He frowned.  
“You’re such a fucking bitch.” Theon heard Asha bark a laugh as he hung up.

After supper Theon stared at the opened macroeconomics textbook on his desk. The words floated before his eyes, nothing taking root. Before today he hadn’t heard from Asha since July. She’d spent her summer break training high school ROTC kids in Florida, and now was in her second year at West Point. They’d never been close, despite their close age. Asha never scared him like his brothers did, but she had the same mean streak that had been passed down to all the Greyjoy kids. She gave as good as she got to her brothers, and earned Balon’s respect by being the disciplined, hardened soldier Theon wouldn’t be. The door opened. Theon turned around. Rob walked into the room, hair wet from the shower, clearly exhausted.  
“How was practice?”  
“Good, good. We’ll crush them on Saturday.” He fell onto his bed with a groan. “Staying in tonight?”  
“Yeah. I have a macro assignment due Friday.”  
“How’s that going?”  
“You know. It’s good.”  
“Yeah? Your laptop’s closed.”  
“That it is.” Theon turned back to his desk and opened his laptop. He heard Rob get up and start changing behind him. “My sister called,” he said without knowing why.  
“I didn’t know you had a sister.”  
“Yeah she’s uh, she’s a total bitch.” Rob laughed.  
“I’m sure she’s great.”  
“You’re delusional, she’s like a girl version of me.”  
“What’s so bad about you?” Theon turned around. Rob was shirtless and wearing sweatpants, combing his hair. A healing football bruise mottled his right side, from hip to ribs. Theon didn’t know what to say. Rob filled the conversation’s lull. “How is she?”  
“Good, I think. She’s a sophomore at West Point.” Theon turned back to his laptop and typed some gibberish into an empty document. “You gonna go home for Christmas?”  
“Yeah, I’ll probably stay at the house a week or so. You?”  
“I don’t know, I mean I’m pretty busy here. Lotta work to do, gotta stay in shape.”  
“Right.” Rob was on his bed, reaching for a book off his shelf. “You should come to my parents’ for Christmas dinner though.” Theon turned around again.  
“Really?”  
“Of course.” Rob settled on his back, holding More’s Utopia.  
Theon forced a few hundred words into the document before getting into bed. He lay down facing Rob’s side of the room, where he was reading intently. His brow was furrowed, and loose curls of auburn hair fell down over his eyes. Every so often he’d mouth a word silently, or bite at his bottom lip. Theon fell asleep watching him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i realise this has been very meandering yet awkward so far, I hope it improves but in any case thanks for reading :) and contrary to Theon here I do love asha please dont get mad at me!


	5. Chapter 5

Ros sat in Theon’s bed, pulling on one of his shirts she found on the floor. He had returned to his desk almost the second he finished, forcing himself to do an assignment before going to sleep. Rob was away overnight at a game in Connecticut. 

“Whose is this?” Ros asked. Theon turned to look at her. She had put on Rob’s Crimsons baseball hat.

“Rob’s, put it back.” She was looking at herself in the mirror.

“He really shouldn’t wear red, it doesn’t look good on gingers.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“On me maybe, but with his complexion it doesn’t do him any favours.”

“Why are you so obsessed with him?” Theon had gone back to typing. Ros laughed, loud, and Theon was reminded of every time Asha had laughed at his attempts to talk back to Balon. “Cut that out, the RA will hear you.”

“And he didn’t hear me saying ‘yeah, yeah,’” she raised her voice, exaggeratedly moaning. “‘Give it to me, harder, oh-’”

“Shut up,” Theon said urgently. “You don’t even sound like that.” 

“What do I sound like then?” she asked, teasing. He looked at her. She was slowly pulling up the hem of the t-shirt she was wearing.

“I can’t, I have to finish this.” She rolled her eyes. “I want to have it done so we can go out tomorrow night.”

“You and the governor’s son?”

“Yeah.”

“And you called me obsessed with him?” she bit back more laughter. The clarity in Theon’s head suddenly turned to confused frustration. “Look at yourself.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.

“Did you know,” she said, suddenly serious, the only sign of her mirth a slight turn to her lips. “That even when you’re trying very hard not to look at my face, I can tell when  
you say my name wrong? And that I’m pretty sure,” she reclined on her elbows, staring at Theon’s stunned face with a look of amusement? Satisfaction? Smugness? “You’re not actually saying my name wrong, you’re saying-”

“Shut up.” Theon’s face was burning redder than Ros’s hair. She smiled. 

“I’m just trying to help you out, Theon.”

“No you’re not, you’re fucking with me.”

“Keep repressing it, baby, you’re the only one who you’re making miserable.”

“Fuck off, get out of my room.” 

“Alright.” She slid off the bed, and started getting dressed. “Have fun getting blown by the next flat chested redhead you project onto.” 

Theon’s fury foiled any attempt at a sentence and he just spat out “Bitch!” as she closed the door behind her. She was lying, he never said girls’ names during sex because half the time he didn’t know them, and why the fuck would he say Rob’s? He wasn’t gay, no matter what Rodrik and Maron called him. Hell, his body count was probably higher than both of theirs combined (in the context of sex, anyway. Theon had long expected the day he’d read a news story about a rogue Navy seal who killed ten civilians and see a broader, paler version of his own face staring up at him). 

“Whatever happened to Ros?” Rob spun around in his desk chair, clicking a pen in his right hand absentmindedly. “I feel like you haven’t hung out with her in forever.” It was the Wednesday of the last week of exams before Christmas break. Snow was falling in the darkness outside their window. Theon had two left, Macroeconomics and Copyright Law, and Rob had just one: Industrial Revolution 110. 

“She uh- moved on to bigger and better things, I guess,” Theon said. “Well, probably not bigger.” He smirked. Rob grinned and threw the pen at him. It bounced off his shoulder.

“You better not say stuff like that in front of my mom and dad.” 

“Wow, you’re trying to censor me?” Rob laughed, trying to bite it back by chewing at his bottom lip. “I’m just trying to maintain my integrity and not conceal my-” Rob grabbed another pen out of the jar on his desk and threw it. That one hit Theon’s chest.

“Theon.” 

“‘Course not,” Theon assured. He closed his laptop. “I’m not an animal.”

They studied in silence a while, Rob occasionally muttering things about child labour or steam power under his breath, Theon wishing Ros was still around to incentivize him to focus.

“Hey,” Rob spun around again. Theon took out his headphones. “I was thinking you should come stay with us next week. I know dorms are open but you could use a change of scenery,” he said, his eyes bright.

“Like, at your house?”

“Yeah. We have loads of room, even if other people visit.”

The answer that immediately jumped to Theon’s throat was yes, obviously I want to spend Christmas with you. He frowned. That was an insanely weird thought to have about your male roommate. About anyone. “I’ll think about it, it sounds fun.”

“Come on, say yes,” Rob urged. He wet his lips with his tongue. 

“I’ll think about it man, I have work and stuff.”

“Classes are literally over.”

“Okay, yes,” Theon said. Rob’s face broke into a boyish smile. 

“Perfect, I’ll tell Mom.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok short chapter, apologies. lmk what you think! i always really liked ros as a show character especially since theres no theon pov chapter in agot. anyways, i hope i did her justice.


	6. Chapter 6

Theon finished the week confident in his Copyright Law knowledge, less so about Macro, but he was happy to forget all about his exams, and he and Robb spent Friday night at Cabot, Dacey’s house, with the group he’d met on move day. There were Christmas decorations up and a bowl of cider instead of punch (strictly for those of legal drinking age). Robb danced with Dacey, and Theon chalked it up to the two glasses of cider he’d had that he spent three songs ignoring a blonde soccer player to try to decipher whether Rob’s intentions were friendly or something more. Pat was there, and reminded him that the crew coach was hosting a holiday party on Monday night, and made off to his dorm with the soccer player before nine.

Robb found Theon joking with Torrhen and some other football players in a side room around one.

“Rob!” Torrhen roared, handing him a beer. “Careful with Mormont, she could smash your skull in if you break her heart.”

“So could her mom,” Cley added. Robb laughed, far more than either remark deserved, but then again his face was flushed and he was swaying as he walked. Theon laughed along, realising he’d never seen Robb in this state before. He moved to his side, leaning against the same wall.

“I don’t- nothing going on with her, Tor,” Robb assured him, raising the beer to his mouth.

“Easy,” Theon said, but Robb didn’t seem to hear.

“Fair, fair,” Torrhen said. “Any other girls, though?”

“Cabot’s got all these uh-” started Dick, a linebacker. He waved a hand around. “All these soccer girls. Legs, you know?” Torrhen snorted.

“Not my type,” Robb said, prompting approving chuckles from half the guys in the room. Despite being younger than nearly all of them and smaller than most, Robb easily commanded the attention of all these guys, even what seemed like ten beers in, and discussing girls in neanderthal parlance.

“What the fuck is your type, Stark?” Cley asked. “See, Greyjoy here,” he pointed with the can he was cradling in a massive palm. “All semester has only gone after ginger chicks, which is uh- you know I respect it, he has a type.” Theon laughed.

“Better keep him away from Sansa, Rob,” Torrhen cut in. Robb turned to him. Theon had immediately gone red. Robb stared at him a moment.

“Don’t need to, Torrhen, he’d never, he’s a good guy,” he said.

“Around you maybe,” Torrhen said. “Different story in different company, I’ll tell you.” This prompted another round of laughs, nervous ones from Theon, and none from Rob, whose gaze still rested on Theon’s profile.

Robb leaned against Theon as they walked back to residence, hours later. Theon was for once grateful for the eight hours of strength training he’d been doing each week for crew as he wrapped one arm around Rob’s torso to hold him up. He’d always seen Robb had brawn where he was lanky, but he realised then he had to have thirty pounds on him, at least. After the ordeal of getting up the stairs to the second floor, Theon fell into bed without changing, and was asleep within a minute.


	7. Chapter 7

They headed into the Boston suburbs Saturday afternoon, Theon changing the radio channel incessantly as Robb drove. “Cut it out,” Robb said.

“What am I supposed to do, you don’t have any good CDs.”

“Sure I do.”

“This is like, half Christian music, half music for Irish dancing,” Theon said. Robb laughed. 

“I should have some Beastie Boys somewhere in there.”

“I have looked at every CD in this car and there is not a Beastie Boy to be seen.”

Theon flicked through the channels one more time and settled on Christmas music turned to the lowest volume.

“Don’t worry about remembering my siblings’ names, I know there’s a ton of them, they’ll come with time.”

“I know Sansa’s the oldest, correct?” Robb paused, and Theon’s heartbeat accelerated. Then he saw the guy in the truck trying to pass them at an absurd pace and his chest relaxed.

“Uh- yeah sorry. Got distracted. She’s the teenage version of my mom, you’ll know her immediately.”

“Do I call your dad Governor, or Mister Governor, or Mr. Stark, or-” Robb laughed. 

“Just Mr. Stark is fine.”

“What about your mom?”

“Mrs. Stark. They’re like, normal people, Theon, not royalty.” 

“I dunno Rob, I mean you are Catholics.” Robb laughed. 

“Shut up.”

The Stark home was massive, close to the size of Theon’s uncle Vic’s, but it was far from his Florida McMansion. It was Victorian-ish, two turrets poking up from the roof, and a deck wrapping around the front and left side. The exterior was charcoal, its trimming white. Robb carefully parked in the circular driveway, where three other cars already sat. His face lit up at the sight of the black BMW ahead of his Mercedes (Theon also saw a two car garage next to the driveway). “Whose cars are those?” 

“Front one is Sansa’s, last year’s birthday gift. Grey one is my aunt’s and the BMW is my cousin’s. My parents’ must be in the garage.”

They unloaded the car, each carrying a suitcase, and Theon carrying a bouquet of flowers in his free hand, and headed up the stairs that led across the terraced lawn to the enormous wreath-festooned front door. Theon adjusted the collar of his starched navy button down as Robb opened the and led the way into the Governor’s mansion. “Get ready,” Robb warned, half a second before a series of shrieks echoed in the entryway. Theon watched his roommate almost bowled over by the two balls of red hair and excitement that barreled down the hall and hugged him around the waist. “Bran! Rickon!” Robb disentangled himself from his luggage enough to kneel down and hug the kids. The smaller one was five or so, the older about nine. “How’s it going, guys?” 

“Rob!” Another kid, this one a girl, probably twelve or thirteen, followed her brothers into the entryway, running at a less breakneck but no less urgent pace to push her brothers out of the way and hug Rob.

“Arya! Bran! Rickon! Give him some space!” A tall, beautiful woman of about forty came down the wide stairway that stood in the large entryway. Her long auburn hair was bound into a braid, and she was wearing an elegant blue dress.

“It’s fine, Mum.” Robb was laughing as his youngest brother babbled to him about something Theon couldn’t understand.

“You’d think you were overseas!” she said, a smile on her face. She turned. “You must be Theon.”

“I am,” Theon said with a wide smile. “Thank you for hosting me, Mrs. Stark.” He held out the bouquet. “I’m really grateful.” 

“Of course, you’re welcome,” she replied, her smile as radiant as it was in the magazines. She took the flowers. “Boys, Arya, give your brother a moment.” Her voice was sterner this time, and the trio fled back down the hall. “Rob,” she faced her son. He moved to hug her right away, and Theon watched awkwardly as the pair embraced. “I missed you.”

“Me too, Mum,” Robb mumbled against her shoulder. Catelyn parted from him and held his shoulders.

“Were you taller than me when you went off to college?”

“Pretty sure,” Robb said. “Mum, I’ve seen you since then. I came home for Thanksgiving.” 

“I know,” Catelyn said. “You’re just- in any case.” She turned to Theon again. “I’ve set up one of our guest rooms for you, Robb will show you to it. We have leftovers from lunch if you two are hungry, but supper will be ready in three hours.” 

“Thank you, Mrs. Stark.”

“And Rob, you must have seen, Lyanna and Jon came early as well,” Catelyn said. “They’re in the dining room with your father.” 

“Thanks Mum.” Robb was grinning ear to ear. He leaned in and kissed his mother on the cheek. “Theon, your room’s up here.” He motioned up the wide staircase. 

The upper floor hallway was long, a half dozen doors lining each side. Robb knocked on the second one on the right. It flew open in a second, and a pair of arms wrapped themselves around his neck. He laughed loudly and hugged the girl in the room tightly, leaving his suitcase in the hall. Theon hung back, leaning against the doorframe. 

“It’s so good to see you,” the girl- Sansa said. She was seventeen or eighteen and wearing a cream blouse over dark jeans, her long hair loose. Robb was right, she did look like her mother. 

“How was Ireland?” Robb asked

“Oh my God, it was amazing,” Sansa said. “We got perfect weather, it was gorgeous.”

“Did you see uncle Brynden?”

“Yeah, it was really nice,” Sansa pulled back from her brother. “This is your roommate?” she pointed at Theon. Robb nodded.

“Sorry, yeah, Theon Greyjoy,” he introduced him. Theon smiled and held out a hand. She took it.

“Nice to meet you, I’ve heard lots,” he said.

“Oh no,” she smiled and turned back to Rob. “So is he why you never visit?”

“I visit, why is everyone saying I don’t visit?” Robb defended himself. “I’m gonna go down and see Dad once we’re settled, do you want to meet me down there?” Sansa nodded and Robb finally ushered Theon into the guest room. “I’m right next door if you need anything,” he said as he closed the door behind him. 

“Thanks.” The room was spacious, even with a wide bookshelf, queen sized bed, and deep oak dresser. Framed art of velvety green moors, austerely beautiful cliffs, and country villages decorated the cream coloured walls. Theon set his suitcase next to the bed and checked his reflection in the mirror. “Alright,” he muttered. 

Within five minutes Robb knocked on his door and they went back downstairs. Robb led him into a dining room that looked like something out of a fucking movie. The table could easily seat twelve people, and there were oil portraits of solemn looking men and women placed on each wall. The people in the room, however, looked modern, normal. A relatively young man with grey hair sat at the head of the table, talking quietly but animatedly to the dark haired woman to his left and the boy next to her. Governor Eddard Stark looked up to see Robb standing in the doorway and broke into a wide smile that Theon had never seen on television. “Come here, Rob,” he called. “Your friend, too.” Eddard stood up to hug Robb when he approached, who then hugged the woman and boy, in turn. “Theon Greyjoy?” Eddard shook Theon’s hand firmly. “Good to meet you.”

“You as well, sir,” Theon said. 

“This is my sister, Lyanna, Robb’s aunt.” He gestured at the woman, who seemed to be around her mid-thirties. She intensely resembled her brother. “And her son Jon.” The boy was, on closer look, eighteen or nineteen, far slighter than Robb or even Theon. His chiseled face echoed his mother’s beauty, but where her expression was open his was reserved, sullen even.

They sat and Robb gave his father a rundown of his exam week, Eddard nodding with approval at each account of hard work that paid off. Theon studied the room around them. “And you, Theon, how was your week?” Eddard’s voice cut through.

“It went well, sir. I was less sure about Macro, but I’m hoping the extra time I spent studying for it made up for it.”

“Good man,” Eddard said. “Business is difficult, it takes a lot of work.”

“It sure does, sir.”

“Are you hoping to follow your uncle’s footsteps, work at the family company?”

“That’s my hope for this summer, but I’m hoping to try a few things, settle on my favourite.”

“I’m sure going back South is a lot more appealing now that you’ve seen a Massachusetts winter,” Lyanna said. 

“Maybe right now, but I sure like it better than a Jacksonville summer,” Theon said.

“Have you ever considered the military? It sure runs strong in your family,” Eddard said. 

“Dad,” Robb started. 

“I have,” Theon said. “I went to a military high school,” At this, Jon snorted derisively. “And I think I’d excel better in the private sector.” 

“Jon, how’s McGill?” Robb asked. 

“Good. I’m thinking of switching my major,” Jon said.

“To brooding?” Sansa’s voice came from the door. She entered the room and sat next to Theon.

“Ha.” Jon scowled. “To creative writing.” 

“Very cool,” Sansa said in a monotone. “You’re serious?”

“Sansa,” Robb said. “Come on.” 

Theon mostly watched the Starks, watched them trade in gentle teasing and adoring familial looks. It was uniquely foreign to him but something about it felt right. It continued throughout supper and then after and soon Theon himself was trading in jokes with the tribe of redheads he’d been dropped into.


	8. Chapter 8

On Christmas Eve afternoon, after an enormous lunch, Theon sat on the floor next to a low coffee table in the Starks’ family room. The glass full of warm cider Lyanna had handed him when Catelyn wasn’t looking settled pleasantly in his stomach, and his eyes wandered about the room lazily, from Sansa bowed over the table, assembling a massive jigsaw puzzle, to Robb sprawled out on a couch with an arm over his eyes, to Jon sitting with his feet up on an armchair in the corner, typing away on his laptop.   
“Do you see any red?” Sansa asked him. He glanced at the pieces scattered on the table, seeing nothing.   
“No- wait,” he reached down. “It fell on the floor.”  
“Thank God, I thought I was going insane trying to find it.”  
“You could thank me instead,” he said. She laughed.   
“Thank you, Theon.” She clicked the piece into place.  
“Sansa,” Robb spoke. He too had had cider.   
“Yes?” she turned to him.  
“What did you get me for Christmas?”  
“Not telling.” She returned to her puzzle.  
“Jon?”  
“Yeah?”  
“What did you get me for Christmas?”  
“Uh- whatever Sansa said.” Jon didn’t look up.  
Theon thought about his own family. He knew Asha and Rodrik were home, Asha probably sitting with their mother in the living room while Balon and Rodrik got drunk in his office. His uncles would come by for supper the next day and leave before eight after some inane argument. He’d sent his mother a book about art that Wylla assured him was good, with a short letter about how much he wished he could come home, but he was so busy with crew training, and in any case he missed her and wished her merry Christmas.  
“So,” Sansa said. “Theon.”  
“So, Sansa.”   
“Will you be bringing a guest to our party on New Year’s?”   
“I-” Theon looked at Robb. “Your brother neglected to mention a New Year’s Day party.”  
“Robb!” Sansa pushed him.   
“Hey!”  
“Why didn’t you tell Theon about the New Year’s party?”   
“I forgot, there’s so many galas and parties and soirees, I can’t be expected to remember all of them.”  
“Yes you can.” She returned her attention to Theon. “Are your brothers that annoying? Anyway, we have a party every New Year’s day after Mass, loads of people come and they’re all lovely, it’s a little formal but not like a ball or anything, just some of Daddy’s coworkers are there so it’s good to dress up. You’re obviously coming and you can bring a date if you like.”  
“That sounds fantastic, but- and don’t tell your mother this but I had been planning to spend New Year’s Day recovering in bed-”  
“You can get over your hangover in the morning, it’s not until five anyway. You’re coming,” Sansa insisted.   
“The guest isn’t mandatory?”  
“Obviously not, and you can even just bring a friend if you want. Like I’m bringing my friend Jeyne. Oh and-” she paused, excited. “Mr. Snow over there is bringing a young lady down from Canada, just for the party.”  
“I’m not bringing her, she has friends here she wants to spend New Year’s Eve with-”  
“So you,” Robb said, grinning at his cousin.  
“Other friends.”  
“What’s her name?” Robb asked.   
“Ygritte.”  
“Is that like, Slavic?” Theon asked.  
“I don’t know. She’s just a friend,” Jon said.  
“No one said anything to the contrary,” Theon pointed out.   
“The lad doth protest too much, methinks,” Sansa said. “Is she in your year, Jon?”  
“No, she’s a journalism junior.”  
“Oh, lovely. Anyway. Theon, party, thoughts?” she asked. Robb rolled his eyes, but Jon appeared relieved the conversation had moved on.  
“I will... consider it,” Theon allowed.   
“Theon.” Sansa dragged out his name, almost whining, and Theon wondered if this was what it was like to have a little sister.   
“You sound just like your brother. Fine.”  
“Perfect.”  
Soon the family room was invaded by Bran, Rickon, and Arya, bringing with them the game Monopoly.   
“Oh God,” Sansa said.   
“You’re not allowed to say that!” Bran said.   
“Oh no, I shouldn’t play the game then,” she said in mock disappointment.   
“Not getting out of it that easily, Sansa.” Robb slid off the couch and pushed the coffee table away, leaving room on the floor to set up the game. “Come on, guys. You too, Jon.”  
Jon groaned but sat on the floor and opened the box. “You’re missing two pieces,” he observed. “We need a group of two. Sansa and Arya?”  
“No way,” said Arya. “Bran and Rickon.”  
“They’ll fight the whole time,” Robb stepped in. “Theon will be on my team.”  
The game went on for two boisterous hours. Theon let Robb make all the business decisions, his contribution being to trash talk Jon, to the younger kids’ great amusement. Sansa went bankrupt first after a series of moves so bad they had to be deliberate, and settled on the armchair Jon had been in after making a mug of hot chocolate upstairs. Bran pouted at being bankrupted next, but Arya invited him to be on her team, before promptly abandoning him to get her own mug of hot chocolate. Rickon landed the killing blow on Jon when he landed on his bright Greyjoy monopoly, and Jon scowled at Sansa before settling on the couch with his laptop. With no one left to trash talk, Theon began to nod off, and woke with a start when Rickon celebrated his victory with a shout.   
“Winner cleans up!” Robb said, and hopped to his feet.   
“No fair!”   
“I’m gonna go see if Mum needs any help,” he said.   
“Me too.” Sansa made to follow him. Theon began to stand up.  
“Stay here, Theon, you’re the guest.”  
“You sure?”  
Sansa nodded, and the oldest pair of Stark siblings headed upstairs.   
“Rickon cheated,” Arya asserted.  
“Did not!” Rickon said.   
“I saw you,” Bran said.  
“Hey, Arya, why don’t you put on a movie or something?” Jon cut in, defusing the conflict.   
Ten minutes into Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, Theon went upstairs to the dining room, where Sansa was carefully setting the table.   
“They scare you off already?” she asked.  
“Just Jon.” Sansa laughed.   
“I get it, he’s not the most socially adept guy.”  
“I’d expect a Canadian to be easier to get along with.”  
“He’s only been there six months.”  
“It should come with time, then.”  
“I hope so.”  
“What’s the deal with that girl?”  
“Ygritte? I’ve interrogated him about her but he insists she’s just a friend. He’s always been terrible with girls, like scared of them, I’m shocked he’s even friends with one.”  
“Talking about Jon?” Robb came into the room, an enormous covered bowl in his hands.   
“Yes,” Sansa said. “Salad?”  
Robb nodded, setting it on the table. “Be nice to him, guys.”  
Sansa rolled her eyes, standing where Robb couldn’t see her face. Theon grinned.   
“Come on, he’s a good guy.”   
“Anyway. It’s just the ten of us, right?” Sansa changed the subject.  
“Yes.”  
Sansa picked up a pile of name cards from a table in the corner of the room. “Alright, Mum at the one end, I’ll put you next to Mom, Theon next to you, me next to him, Rickon next to me, then Dad at the other end, Lyanna next to him and Jon next to her, then Arya and Bran,” she thought out loud, setting down the name cards, which on closer look Theon saw were intricately decorated with watercolours.   
“Sansa, did you paint these?”  
“Yeah,” she said. “It helps me unwind from school.”   
“They’re amazing,” he peered at Arya’s, at the blue roses climbing around the letters of her name on deep Greyjoy vines. “Have you ever thought about going into art?”   
“A little,” she said in a polite tone that seemed to say “not at all.”  
Around six the younger kids hurried upstairs, and Sansa headed up to her room. “I’m gonna go get ready for Mass.”   
Theon looked at Robb. “Um. Should I change, or-?”  
Robb looked confused a moment. “Oh. You don’t have to come with us. My mum knows you’re not Catholic.”   
“I can, though. I don’t mind.”   
“If you want, I just think you’ll be bored. It’s just a lot of singing and standing and- you know.”  
“Right.”   
Theon went up to his room and changed out of his by then wrinkled polo. He picked out an ironed grey button down and combed his hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading despite my sporadic uploading schedule. Merry Christmas to all who celebrate and to those who don't I hope you have a restful holiday. :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is like implied drug and alcohol abuse in this chapter as well as religious stuff so be aware of that! Merry Christmas as well :)

Robb was right, the service, (Mass? Right? That was what it was called?) was long and consisted of a lot of songs that seemed to never end. But the full, dark, candlelit cathedral had an atmosphere that felt- Theon couldn’t put his finger on it. Whatever the polar opposite of his uncle Aeron’s megachurch services was. Theon glanced at Robb out of the corner of his eye. He was staring ahead attentively, his chiseled face arranged into a serious but open expression. Theon smiled, and saw Robb’s eyes flick towards him. A tiny smile appeared on his face before he raised his hand to his jaw, covering his mouth. Theon heard a muffled laugh and bit his lip to suppress his own giggles. He felt Sansa’s glare on him.  
After Mass, Mr. Stark spent what felt like three hours but was closer to one, shaking parishioner’s hands and wishing them Merry Christmas. Robb and Sansa ducked out of the church after politely greeting a few middle aged people who seemed to know them. Theon followed them into the cold Boston air, where snowflakes were settling in Robb’s hair.   
“We’re making a quick detour,” Robb said. Theon followed them into what looked like an alleyway, behind the church. They stood behind a dumpster, (thankfully the cold mostly neutralized the stench). Robb pulled a pack of cigarettes and lighter out from his coat and quickly lit one. He passed the pack to Sansa, who didn’t take a cigarette.   
“Theon?”  
“I don’t smoke cigarettes.”  
She put the pack back in her coat.   
“You’re going to ruin your football career,” she told her brother.   
“My football career was always going to end when I’m twenty-two. I’m safe until then.”  
Robb tilted his head back against the stone of the cathedral. From where they stood they could just barely see the church spire jutting into the night sky. Snow drifted into the alley and landed on Robb’s upturned face. He breathed out smoke.   
“I’ve never seen you smoke before.”  
“He only does it when it has a chance of getting me in trouble.”  
“Would your parents be upset about it? He’s an adult.”  
Sansa and Robb both laughed, harder and meaner than Theon had heard them before. Robb’s teeth glinted in the streetlights.  
“Dad won’t let Lyanna smoke on the property. Not just the house, the property, and she’s thirty-five.”  
“Same goes for revealing clothes, at all, pre-marital anything, any drug use,” Sansa rattled off, her breath freezing in front of her. “Drinking underage or in excess.”   
Theon looked at Robb, who was scowling as he blew out more smoke. “We have a reputation to uphold,” Robb said.   
They drove home in Robb’s car (Sansa took the passenger seat and Theon sat in the back), to a house empty save for Lyanna and Jon, who were downstairs.   
“Mom will drop off the kids in a bit and then they have a cocktail party at the mayor’s,” Sansa said when they got home. Robb went straight to the dining room and rummaged a bottle of scotch out of the liquor cabinet. “Robb,” she said.   
“Yeah?” he took down two glasses. “Do you not want one?”  
Sansa rolled her eyes. “We have to put the kids to bed. Wait until after they’re asleep.” Robb did. The three of them and Jon settled in Robb’s room once the kids were asleep and all three adults were out.   
Theon didn’t talk much, just listened to the three of them. By one in the morning the two Starks were in peals of laughter over some inside joke, and Jon was stifling his own laughter. Theon sat next to Robb on his bed, slumped against a wall, feeling almost like a voyeur, the one outsider in the room, by now ignored by all three of them. He was sleepy, though, and a little tipsy from the Scotch (they’d all drank a bit much except for Jon), and didn’t mind. It was good just to be around people who liked each other so much.


	10. Chapter 10

The New Year’s Day Party was as formal as Theon had imagined, though the food was better than it was at any of the society events he’d gone to with Balon or his mother. The younger boys were bundled into white button downs and vests, and Arya made known her anger at the dress she was forced to wear. Sansa looked elegant as her mother in a pale grey gown that matched Robb’s tie. Robb moved masterfully through groups of people, shaking hands and making polite conversation with who Theon figured must be Boston royalty. He charmed the partygoers as well as he did members of the football team, girls at Mather, his professors and classmates, though the method was different.  
Sansa sidled up next to Theon the second he ended a conversation with a silver haired man who owned a football team. “Have you seen Jon’s date?” she whispered.  
“No, are they here yet?” Sansa nodded, mischief in her eyes.  
“Over there.” She tilted her head at the other side of the room where Jon Snow, sullen as ever, stood next to a girl who towered over him in heels, her wild red hair loose, wearing scarlet lipstick and a deep green dress. She looked like a model, from her long slender legs to her angular face.  
“How on earth did he manage that?” Theon whispered.  
“I know!”  
Later on he found himself in conversation with Ygritte. He was hovering next to a massive Christmas tree and she approached him, Jon nowhere to be found. Theon was taller than Jon, by quite a lot actually, but Ygritte was even taller than him; she was probably close to Robb’s height. He smiled at her.  
“Do you know Jon Snow?” she asked. She had a Quebecois accent.  
“A little,” he said.  
“Did you know he is the stupidest boy I have ever met?”  
Theon’s smile grew. “I can’t speak for any other boys you’ve met but I do know that he is rather stupid.”  
“He invited me to this party, and I came all the way down here from Montreal.” She pronounced Montreal as ‘mohn-ray-al’. “And he hasn’t even fucking kissed me. And not for lack of my hinting, you know?”  
“Oh I know.”  
“I’m Ygritte, by the way.”  
“Theon.”  
“Who are you here with?”  
“A friend of mine, his father’s the host.”  
“No girl?”  
Theon looked at her. She really was striking, full lips, high cheekbones, pointed chin.  
“No.”  
“Huh, are you gay?”  
“What- no.”  
“I mean no offense, it struck me as odd a boy with your looks and, as evidenced by your being here, your means, would be at a holiday party with no girl on his arm.”  
“I suppose you’re right.” He looked her up and down more deliberately, then stared into her eyes. “Where are you staying?”  
Ygritte was a good kisser. She was staying in a nice hotel in Boston, and shoved Theon through the door of her room with her lips locked to his. Her hands were like soft ivory, her fingers long. She unbuttoned his shirt skillfully, and- then he was fast asleep, dreaming of a redhead who was not the girl lying next to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about my long hiatuses folks.


End file.
